Elephants on Parade
by RedDevilGirl
Summary: Leaving Cicero. Sam didn't think Dean could see them. And Dean learns a little something about Sam's Stanford days. Dean/Sam Angst, a little bit of unhinged!Sam to follow...
1. Chapter 1

_Sam didn't think Dean could see them. But he can._

_Not much of a plot to this one I'm afraid. It's a bit rambly. Should've been a nice short one-shot but as usual, I couldn't shut up. And there's a bit of language – after Ghostfacers I realised that Kripke knows that two guys living together on the road are gonna probably use language a bit stronger than we can see on the show :0)_

_So. Where am I coming from with this one? I'd just wondered if they ever talked about what happened in Indiana… and what Sam's initial reaction would be to Ruby showing up and the info he'd just heard about his Mom. Not to mention his recent resurrection. So guess it's almost a missing scene - but not quite!_

_Not really chapters, but likely to be a couple of parts. And hope you've all seen the film I'm referring to ha ha! I initially wanted to use this as part of something bigger but I didn't manage it. And it's all angst. Sorry._

_Roll on September…! _

_Sarah_

It was a stupid, stupid phrase. 'Elephant in the room'. He never understood why people let things get to that stage without discussing them. That was until he went to sleep in Cicero, alone, and woke up to find, yes, you guessed it. Somehow, in the middle of the night, it had skulked in, maybe it followed him home? Nonetheless, it was there. A huge elephant.

And that was fine. He could cope with it - hell, it wasn't the only uninvited guest that had turned up that room over the last couple of days. After what he'd just learned, he could kinda cope with the elephant. Because he had a plan. Sam fully intended to suck up the stress that this fcking stupid deal was causing them and leave the elephant exactly where it was. In the room. In Cicero. It should have been easy – don't think about it, then, when it's looking the other way, slip out of the door really really quickly and close it behind him really really fast… okay, so it was a rubbish plan.

And the bastard thing had still managed to follow him.

Sam heaved the trunk closed, brushing his hands against his jeans to rid them of the grime that had accumulated on the back of the Impala. The engine was already chugging, his brother sitting in the driver's seat, sunglasses on and radio blaring. Sam's heart was racing and a part of him didn't want to get in the passenger seat. He shot a glare into the backseat of the Impala. The damn elephant was in there. Filling the backseat. And, just his friggin luck, it'd been joined by another elephant. Maybe the big elephant's younger brother. Who was getting pissed that the big elephant was avoiding him… shaking his head slightly, he folded himself into the car.

Dean didn't say a word as he revved the V8 engine into motion. He started straight ahead, his face blank. Sam squinted in the sunlight, glancing at his brother, longing to ask him where they were going. Stuff like that was Dean's decision. Sam couldn't tell him what he wanted to do. How could he? It was his last year… and it was time for him to go chase another dying wish now he'd got Lisa Braeden out of his system. Hopefully. Sam frowned. He'd never known Dean return to a past… conquest.

Actually, he reminded himself, there _was_ Cassie. And hadn't _that_ turned out well. Although, there was something about Cassie that made Sam feel that if she wanted to find Dean, she would. No matter what alias he was using or how many times he was declared dead… he half smiled, a small puff of air escaping from his nostrils. He'd been shocked to see Dean close to something that could've been a relationship. And something about this case, something about Dean at the moment, reminded Sam of that week with Cassie. Surely not… did he love Lisa too?

"What?"

"Hmm?" Sam was torn from his daydreaming by his brother. They were just out of Cicero now and Sam wasn't sure exactly where they were heading.

"You're frowning."

"So?"

"You know, if the wind changes your face will stick like that. Although, that might've already happened by the looks of things."

"Well, why d'ya think that is?" Sam corrected his facial expression back into his well-practised pout. Dean puffed out his cheeks in exasperation.

You asked for that, Winchester… Dean rolled his eyes behind his shades. Don't even know why I started this conversation. This journey wasn't going to be fun.

One hour.

Two hours. Two hours and neither of them had said a fcking word. Which was fine by Dean, because the next thing out of his kid brother's mouth was likely to be aggressive, stupid and something that he really, _really_ didn't want to discuss, least of all with _him_. Sam had been getting that awkward, pouty, pissy-teenage girl look about him for days. They were going to have to 'talk'. And he knew they had to. Knew it was inevitable. But right now, he was dealing. Stupid phrase. Dealing with my Deal… on my own. Just for a while. He didn't intend to shut Sam out, not entirely. Just need to… just need to get some stuff straight in my own head first. And yes, before Sam asked, having as much bedroom action as a man could physically handle _did_ help him work things out.

Well, it did until last week anyway.

That's it. He's being a dick. Sam huffed as loud as he could as his watch ticked over the third hour of silence. Well… sort of silence. Apart from the music. But no talking. Not a word. Too much. Too quiet. He leaned over and turned the radio up, not just loud, but as loud as it would go, the AC/DC bassline ripping through the speakers. Dean frowned at him and turned the rasping sound back down, so that it was still loud but not at a danger of bursting the speakers and both mens' eardrums.

"What the fck, Sam?" Dean's voice rumbled over the loud music.

"Just… I'm not…" He folded his arms across his chest defiantly. He was mad. He couldn't quite get his head round why. Well, not specifically anyway. It was all too much. All of it, all together. Friggin' elephants. They had to talk about this. Dean was going to hell in eleven months and six days and he wasn't telling him what was going on. And okay, maybe he'd not been _entirely_ truthful with Dean. But he wasn't going to burden him with the other… stuff. Including what he'd just found out about Mom's friends. Or the blonde demon girl that was following them. Following _him_, anyway. Jeez. He shuddered slightly, realising suddenly that their backseat passenger wasn't alone. More friggin' elephants.

The thought of the blonde girl, what she'd been telling him, telling him she's _interested_ in him was enough to… to… shit, to force the elephants to split apart, to multiply, just like they did in that awful scene in Dumbo. Growing larger, maybe being slammed between a massive pair of cymbals and watching it split into about a million smaller neon elephants, all marching… Man, I hate that film. Who in their right mind puts a scene like that in a _kid's_ film? He drummed his fingers against the window heavily, unconsciously tapping the tune… _Pink Elephants on Parade… Look Out! Look out… _

"You're not what?" Dean shouted back over the music, a little closer to his own anger threshold than he'd like to be. He'd seen it a thousand times; his brother huffing, puffing and repeatedly blowing that stupid long hair out of his face being the foreplay to some kind of stupid Sammy temper-tantrum, last seen when Dad showed up. He growled deeply under his breath, knowing that Sam being stuck in the car in this kind of mood was a bad idea. He swung the car over by the roadside, the shocked gravel crunching under the wheels of the Impala. He shot his brother a glare as he killed the engine, slamming the door behind him as hard as possible and leaning back against the car. He heard a second slam as his Sam's body language mirrored his movements.

_I'm not talking first_… Sam glowered quietly at his brother.

His brother glared back. With that 'look'. The one that said 'enough'. The one that said 'talk, little bro, and talk now, cos this is getting really old'.

Not yet, thought Sam. I can buy myself another couple of minutes. He concentrated on his chest, rising and falling, not panicking. Not yet.

"Come on, Sam." Dean's voice was quiet.

"I've gotta take a piss."

Jeez… Dean rolled his eyes as his brother turned his back to him and walked a nominal ten feet to lean against a huge piece of sandstone. How could he be sooo fcking awkward? Dean leaned back on the Impala again and shielded his eyes from the sun, his sunglasses discarded as he'd stepped out of the car. In fact, awkward didn't touch it. Fcking asshole was more accurate. But he could give him a minute. Just one more.

Sam closed his eyes as he unzipped his jeans, knowing he had to get his head in gear. He had to talk to Dean. But… he'd felt like this before. Normally with Dad. When he knew that he was being an asshole, knew that he was just going to make matters worse but he just couldn't help it. He was mad. He was upset. And he was stressed… he had so much to do. So many things to work out, so much to fix… he had to make it right.

And… and above all, he was… he didn't want to admit it. But he was frightened. I mean, sure, he thought, I've been frightened before. But never… never for Dean. Having Dean there always made it okay, well, if not okay, better. Even if they were both frightened, his brother was always there to watch out for him. And now it was all up to him to make sure that would carry on… to save his brother. What if he couldn't do it? There was so much new _stuff_, so much that he didn't know what to do with, so much that he needed his Dad and his brother to help him with but he obviously couldn't tell Dad and he really really couldn't tell Dean because he wouldn't listen because he didn't want to but that's cos he just couldn't and so he was gonna have to do it all on his own and, and… breathe, Sam.!

His own voice of reason cut into his ramblings and forced him to draw in a deliberate breath, a little too close to hyperventilation to get away with it without Dean noticing. He managed to relax a little, as, after all, he really _did_ have to pee. His breathing evened out a little as he relieved himself, suddenly realizing that getting out of the car was probably the best thing for both of them at the moment. He was gonna have to face his brother at some point. He knew without turning round that his brother was was leaning backwards on the car, glaring at him out the corner of his eye with that 'look'. He kept his gaze fixed into the distance. His shoulders hurt from the tension, his chest heaving with some weirdo mix of panic and anger. And to top it all off, he just couldn't get that that blonde bitch's voice out of his head. What the hell did she know about his family anyway… his head was swimming. The elephants were marching. _Walking around the bed, on their head…_ He didn't know what to do. So many things, racing round in his confused mind. But he did know one thing. He knew he couldn't tell Dean.

"Better?"

Dean's deep voice was carried away from Sam slightly in the wind, but it was still the only sound on the empty road. He turned slightly to his kid brother, his question met with a scowl. Which, he conceded, was probably fair enough, it _was_ a stupid question and I _did_ just treat him like he's about five. But, hey, that's how old the stupid bastard is acting. Why the fck can he not just do as he's told and let me deal with this. Deal with… everything. Just for a little while.

"Y'know, Sam, I thought you'd have grown out of having to be let out the car to let off steam…"

Sam sucked in a deep breath through his nose, his bottom lip quivering slightly and his hands shaking irritatingly as his fastened his belt. Anger and tears were pretty close together for Sam, but as he breathed back out, a small laugh escaped. He was right. He used to do this when he was a kid. After a day on the road usually; Sam would get really out of sorts and Dad would find somewhere safe to pull over. Somewhere that they could spend just half an hour kicking back, running around, letting off some steam. Dean would need it too, he'd love the short breaks in the driving, but he'd never, ever dare to play up enough to make Dad stop. Sam smiled, remembering knowing when his big brother was getting antsy and on occasion putting on a kiddie strop to get Dad to pull over for Dean's sake. He wondered if Dean ever realised.

Suddenly pulled from his daydream, he realised his brother had moved and was rummaging through the trunk of the Impala. He reluctantly turned to see what he was doing, not quite ready to break the silence, but intrigued none the less.

"Ooof!" Something hit him hard and fast in the pit of his stomach, and he looked down at his hands, shocked. He couldn't believe it. He was holding a football. Half flat, seams splitting and the leather scuffed to hell, but once upon a time, it had been a football. He looked up at his brother who was taking off his jacket and grinning. He couldn't help but give him a shy, closed mouth smile back.

"Ten minutes, dude."

Sam shook his head in disbelief. In the middle of everything, in the middle of it all, Dean wanted to down tools and _play? Jeez, Dean, I'm in the middle of some kind of Disney-induced breakdown, I'm sure I am, and you wanna play football. _Half of him wanted to shove the football wideways up his brother's ass, the other half of him wanted to grab him round the neck and hug him. _Ten minutes, dude_. Just what Dad used to say. How long had this thing been languishing in the bottom of the trunk? Sam was sure he hadn't seen it since… since before he left for school anyway. Dean had already turned on his heels and was running away from the Impala into the roadside scrubland, crouching and clapping his hands when he was a good twenty yards away from Sam.

Sam pulled back his shoulder and launched the football at his big brother, a part of him seeing Dean with his freckles a little more prominent, hair a little longer and still a good head and shoulders taller than him. Sighing, he shrugged his shoulders out of his jacket and ran to face his brother, his hands in the air.

Dean watched painfully as his brother jogged over to stand opposite him. He didn't really want to be standing here tossing a football… he wanted to be drowning somewhere at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. And he was sure Sam did too. But what the hell good did that ever do? He called to his brother again and slung the football towards his brother, laughing as he collected it up and his hair fell over his face. Soccer had always been more Sam's thing. And Sam still wasn't speaking to him. Damn stupid kid… I'm sick of this. He caught Sam's silent pass back to him with a deep breath, pushing the memories of the last couple of days out of the way. He could've stayed. Stayed in that lovely big house in Lisa's lovely big bed… he could've been playing like this with Ben.

They both could.

He gazed up into the orange sky. The sun was just setting, and he span the football up in the air, catching it again himself, just waiting for his brother to say something to him. Won't take a minute… he chucked the ball upwards again, not acknowledging his sibling's presence.

"What the hell, Dean?"

His brother's quiet, slightly irritated voice carried over the empty landscape. Dean caught the ball again and flashed his brother a wicked grin. "You want it? Come get it." He returned to throwing the ball to himself, almost able to hear Sam's huff from twenty five yards away.

Moron. My. Brother. Is. A. Fcking. Stupid. Moron. He'd had a moment out of the way, just a few seconds remembering how they used to play and suddenly he felt the anger again, lurking somewhere, just under the surface. He closed his eyes slowly, breathing in deeply, begging it to go away, begging the elephants not to come back. But he couldn't stop it. That God-awful multi-coloured elephant beast, made of just elephant heads, storming aggressively towards him. _Elephants on parade. Chase them away!_ Shit, man, that _is_ scary. Walt Disney for kids, my ass. He frowned, not quite remembering when he'd watched the scene, not even sure whether he was remembering it properly…in fact, yes, dammit, the stupid fcking clowns had caused it. They knocked the bottle into the water. Knew it – clowns. Bastards. Was their fault Dumbo got drunk…

Sam's memory suddenly found him parked cross-legged on a grubby carpet, gazing upward at a TV, flickering slightly because the tuning was a little off. He remembered being mesmerised; the music, the slightly weird scenery of the circus. The aggressive, brightly coloured clowns. He'd never seen anything like it before. So surreal. His brother was sitting behind him in a similar pose but curled onto a tattered sofa, his eight year old frame towering over Sam, but watching too. Sam looked up towards his brother for some reassurance; he wasn't sure how much he liked this film. It was dark. And it was scary. And then, the terrible scene of Dumbo's mother being dragged away. He remembered thinking how confusing it was; they had a Daddy, and no Mommy, but Dumbo had a Mommy, and they were taking her away. He wasn't too scared though; well, not yet. Because Dumbo saw his Mommy again, Timothy made sure of that. Even though she was locked up. And she still managed to rock him. He remembered frowning at that, about to ask Dean why, not quite sure exactly why she was still locked up… hey, he was only four. But, he turned around, and Dean was gone. He'd been sitting just behind him. Huh, he thought, turning back to the television screen.

And then the _weird_ elephants showed up. Huge, bright coloured, evil elephants on the screen, huge things that doubled in size, split into two, three, man, millions of little elephants, stepping over each other, walking upside down around the bed… he shouted for Dean. He didn't come. Sam scrambled backwards, his heart rising in his chest as the massive elephant-head demon strode towards him, hitting the bottom of the sofa with a thud. Dean again… no sign. I hate it. Where is he… where's Dean? Sam remembered the panic as the elephants grew again… that was it. He had to do it. There was only one more thing he could do. He screamed for his Daddy.

He remembered the big arms gathering him up, Dad's deep voice whispering 'okay, Sammy, it's okay. What's happening?' He remembered gesturing towards the television and Daddy telling him that it was okay, it's not real, it's just on the tv and we can turn it off if he didn't like it. He almost felt his Dad's big, rough thumbs brushing the tears away from his face as he asked him where his brother was. Dad told him to sit still, just for a minute, whilst he went to find Dean. Sam's breath hitched; he didn't want to be here on his own. But he could be brave, just like Dad asked, just for a minute. He rocked him gently, and told him to turn and look, that they were gone, and the sun had come out. Dad was right; the elephants faded into fluffy pink clouds and the screen was bright again. And just for a minute, even though he was only four, Sam remembered feeling just a little bit silly. Of course it couldn't hurt him. It was just TV. And when it was morning, the elephants were just harmless, fluffy clouds. Dad lifted him off his knee and set him down on the sofa next to him, asking where his brother was. Sam didn't know. _Wait there, kiddo._

He did. He always did as he was told. He didn't want to make Dad mad. And Dad was right. It was only a minute. Dad came out of the bedroom, his hand on Dean's shoulder, Dean's shoulders heaving up and down with tears themselves. Dad walked back to the tv and turned it off, declaring angrily 'I don't think we'll watch that again, shall we boys?'. Dad was mad with the TV, but not with them. He knew that; he remembered both himself and his brother being gathered up into his Dad's chest into the fiercest hug he could ever remember. Man… Dad seemed so _big _in his memories.

Jeez. I miss him. He'd…. Sam took a deep sigh. Dad would know what to do. Although Dad had done something just as fcking stupid himself. And, after the last time, he wouldn't like to bet that he'd even have bothered getting in touch. What voicemail would he have left this time? _Hey, Dad, if you get this message, call me. Got some news, I died, Dean sold his soul. But don't worry… we're fine. We're always fine. _He snorted a little at the ridiculous thought. Memories like the Dumbo one, jeez, he knew Dad loved them. He'd done his best. But sometimes… sometimes he'd got it just so _wrong_ that it was untrue.He turned his mind back to the present, his idiot brother still standing in front of him, still holding the football.

I don't even know why I'm doing this. Sam glared at Dean as he arrogantly chucked the football up, down, up, down, spinning around… he threw it once again, touched the floor with both hands before he standing up to catch the ball on its descent. I'm not even going to… I can't be bothered with… He felt the rage bubbling inside him, anger like he hadn't felt in a long time. Everything spinning – Dean, his Deal, Dad… sitting on Dad's knee, telling him it was okay… it's not okay… nothing can ever be okay… what the fck did Dad know… Dad didn't have a clue… didn't… didn't come when Dean was dying… didn't… didn't come when Jess died… Dean hurling the football higher into the air and shouting again, calling stupid taunts over to him… Sam's heart hammered harder with each arrogant toss of the ball, the blood pumping in his ears and his breath quickening. To hell with it. I'm having that football.

"Come on Samantha, come take the ball off your big brother!" Dean taunted, his eye on the football as he flung it as high as he could and expertly caught it behind his back. Spinning it as he threw it one more time, he still hadn't heard a word from his little brother. Come on… you can't not talk to me forever… he caught the football against his stomach once again and glanced to where his brother had been standing. Shit. Sam wasn't standing there anymore. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something. Something huge, something snarling and fast as lighting racing towards him. Shit. Got to run.

Dean turned on his heels as quickly as he could, but the growling behind him grew louder and something hit him like a hurricane, forcing him to the ground in a sandy cloud and pinning him to the dust by his legs. Spluttering and gasping, Dean swore as he realised he'd relinquished the football as what felt like a ten-ton weight bore down on him, scuffing his knees into the dirt. Trying to roll over, he heard his brother breathing heavily over the top of him, sure that he heard him growling as he pressed his shoulders into the dirt. Little bitch, he thought, I'll teach him to tackle me like that. Getting his breath back and spitting sand from between his teeth, he rolled over, shoving Sam to the ground and leaning over him, the dust cloud getting bigger. Ready to laugh, he pinned his younger brother to the ground as he had done in numerous play-fights over the years. He looked into Sam's hazel eyes, ready to make a smart comment, ready to give him a bit of a slap around his sulky cheeks and pull him to his feet, when he stopped. His brother's hazel eyes were not laughing. They were dark and glistening with unshed tears. Crap.

Dean loosened his grip, knowing that the 'talk' that he'd been putting off at all costs was inevitable. Expecting Sam to sit up, he straightened up slightly, waiting for… ooof! Sam's leg was suddenly brought up behind Dean's straightening legs, dropping him to the ground like he'd been shot. That's it. I'm gonna fcking kill him. Dean scrambled to his feet and flew back at Sam, both men scratching around in the undergrowth, chests heaving and swearing under their breath. Dean felt himself slammed to the ground once again – damn, he'd seen Sam's aggression, he'd seen the rages before (well, mainly directed at Dad), but _never_ seen him lose it like this. Suddenly, Sam stopped, grabbing the front of Dean's shirt and breathing heavily, a couple of tell-tale tear tracks on his cheeks and his eyes narrowed. Dean's eyes unwittingly flicked to Sam's right hand, paused up by his face and balled into a fist. Ready to puch his lights out. And shaking. Dean drew in a nervous breath.

"Jeez, little brother, if I'd known you wanted it that badly, you can keep the friggin football." He grinned nervously, watching as the shake in Sam's fist grew more severe, and he feared for a moment that Sam was going to bury his head in his chest and sob. Can't deal with that right now… I'd rather he clocked me one.

Holy crap. Sam breathed in deeply and quickly, staring at his dusty brother held in one fist and his other fist gathered, ready to smack the smile off Dean's irritating face. His stomach plummeted and he thought for a second he was going to throw up. I can't believe I was going to do that. Can't believe I did that. I was going to punch him. _I was going to hit my brother_. He dropped Dean's shirt and swallowed down the lump that was rising in his throat. He opened his mouth, ready to apologise, to try and explain why, how he felt… but he couldn't. He didn't know the words. So much… so much _stuff_ was going round his brain… each problem a stupid, psychedelic elephant that he couldn't get rid of.

Dean coughed a little, heaving himself stiffly back to his feet. Sam couldn't stop the quiver in his chin as he saw his brother scramble out of the dirt and his green eyes met his. Instead of the flash of anger that Sam expected to see, he felt a tear fall run to the end of his nose and drip into the sand. Dean wasn't angry. He was… was he scared? Sam let his face drop towards the ground, just to stop himself looking into Dean's fearful green eyes. Surely he wasn't scared of _him_? Maybe… maybe he was just scared. Suppose he'd gone through a lot of shit in the last month or so. The guy had… he'd sold his soul. Surely he had to be pretty scared to start with to even think about doing that. Scared. Ten points for understatement of the freakin' year, Sam… he felt his brother grasp his large shoulders and dust his arms down towards his torn elbows.

"Come on. Ten minutes is up." Dean lowered his arms, turned around and started back to the Impala. Sam stood breathless behind him, watching as Dean shoved his hands deep into his jeans pockets, the slump of his shoulders obvious as he trudged back to the car.

"And bring my football!"

_Well, that seems as good a place to stop as any! I wanted to put this into something a bit bigger but I couldn't quite fit it into anything, so I thought I'd liberate it. Apologies if it seems a bit random - I'll warn you - once the boys start talking it's gonna get a bit more random! _

_Thanks for reading,_

_Sarah_


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Part 2

Dean leaned against the Impala, the cooler next to him and popped open two beers. He'd have liked to pretend that Sam's… outburst had been unexpected. But it wasn't. He was pissed. About something. Probably the deal. But why the hell lose it now? And it would seem that he can't just run off a sulk like he could eighteen years ago. But then, he'd never been brought back from the dead before. Yellow eyes' words came back to Dean… was what he just saw _one hundred per cent Sam_? He shook the image from his mind; of course it was. Wasn't it? He was just… just… emotional. He was sure of it. He heard the dragging of heavy footsteps in the gravel and he looked up. Sam's hands were dug deep into his pockets, flattened football tucked under his arms and his head down. Dean sighed. Ah, Sammy…

"So." Dean casually chugged back his beer, trying to pretend that this wasn't the most awkward situation he'd been in for… well, hours. Since he left Lisa's anyway. "You got that bug outta your ass now or what?"

Sam squinted in the sun and ran a hand over his filthy face. He looked his brother up and down. His jeans were torn and he could see scrapes on his knees that looked like a playground tumble. Crap. And he bet they were damn sore too. How the fck could he have done that to him? Dean was… Dean was a first class asshole, but hell, that was just _Dean_. He dropped the football into the trunk and sank back next to his brother, graciously accepting the cold beer as a sign that he was forgiven. God knows why. He shouldn't be. He scrubbed a shaky hand over his face, grimacing slightly as he shook orange dirt out of his shaggy hair. "Sorry, man." His voice came out as no more than a whisper.

"Yeah. Fcking right you're sorry. What's going on with you, Sam?"

He sighed. "It's… it's a bit to take in, y'know? I'm not gonna… I don't wanna get into the whole deal thing again, Dean. I get it." He swallowed deeply, certain that he was calming down but not sure that if the tears started properly, that he'd be able to stop them. For a long time. "You don't want to talk about it. I do."

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything, his brother carried on.

"But… but I know… there's not a lot we can do. And I get that you _can't_ talk about it." Sam scrubbed away a rogue tear, pulling himself back from the brink of sobbing again.

"Yup. That's pretty much the long and short of it." Dean raised his eyebrows, attempting to look as blasé as humanly possible. Look, Sammy, I'm not phased. How could I be? I'm your big bro. He looked at his now filthy little brother, kind of looking like he'd been out playing all day. Like he was nine years old again.

"The long and short of it? For fck's sake, Dean…" He huffed aggressively, his mind wandering back to, hell, where to start. To everything else. "Anyway… we've got other stuff to talk about."

"We do?" Dean raised an eyebrow. Fck, what else does little brother have in his back pocket to make me squirm with?

"Y'uh. We do." Sam swigged his bottle and gasped a little, still staring ahead into the setting sun. Hmm. Whole friggin herd of elephants in the back seat. Pink ones. On parade. Which one to set free… there was the blonde demon chick, the leading of the demon army, the fact that all their Mom's friends were dead, the demon blood that Yellow Eyes had fed him as a baby… such a juicy selection! He silently gave a nod to one of the herd, probably the biggest one. Well, certainly a dominant one from where Sam was sitting. He turned his head back to his brother. "Ben."

Hmm… wondered when _that_ gem was going to come up. Dean grimaced and slid down against the warm black metal, his ass planting firmly on the dusty ground as he leaned his elbows on his knees, picking slightly at the new tear in his Levis. Damn brother. Damn nosy little brother! Ben. Lisa's Ben. _His Ben?_ The look on Lisa's face when he said he'd be proud… he swallowed back a slight lump in his throat. He was imagining it, surely? But… just for a moment… he thought he'd said everything that she wanted him to. Not sure how to start the conversation, he sucked back on his beer again and dusted off his knees.

"This something else we're not talking about then, dude?" Sam sank down next to his silent brother, leaning back against the back door, their shoulders just about touching.

"No…" Dean lazily rolled his head to his left. "Just don't quite know what to say about it." His voice trailed off quietly.

"So." Sam squirmed slightly. I don't wanna have to ask this question; he was kind of hoping that Dean would already have offered the answer. He hadn't. He tipped his head to meet his brother's stare. "Is he?"

Dean broke his brother's look, not willing to be swayed into something too emotional by the puppy dog eyes. "She says not."

"D'you ask her?"

"Mmmm."

They were silent for a moment. Man, this was going to be harder than I expected, thought Sam, watching the shadow cast on the ground by a bird overhead. A couple of heartbeats. Dean wasn't going to offer anything unless he was pushed. "So d'you believe her?"

He felt Dean shrug his shoulders next to him.

"Sounds like you're not sure, Dean." Sam dropped his voice to a whisper, almost wanting to wrap an arm around his brother. He marvelled at how… almost _normal_ this conversation could have been. His big brother stressing over whether the kid was his. Man… who'd have ever thought they could have such a, well… _normal_ problem.

"_She_ seems to be." But she's not… is she? Stop it, Dean… don't even think about it. If you think about it, it won't make sense, and it'll hurt. Can't be hurt any more…

"How?"

"Jeez, Sammy, I thought we went through this when you were eleven."

"No, Dean, how's she sure?"

"Says she did a blood test. That it was some biker guy in a bar."

"Oh." Sam fell silent. "But… if he was a one night stand too… how did she…?"

"I don't know Sam. She… she doesn't want it to be me. It can't be. I mean, look at me. Look at us. There's no way." He swallowed slightly, sure that the tear that leaked from the corner of his eye was due to the bright sun. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "There's no way I can be Ben's dad."

Sam's smile twitched slightly. He was right. There was no way. Normal life didn't really work very well for a Winchester. Hell, the feds were on their tail. And besides, Sam had tried normal. It didn't work. Their world found him. It always would. Not to mention the fact that Dean wouldn't be here in eleven months and six days. God damn elephants…

"She was, she was scared of us, Sam. Scared of me." Dean's voice was flat. "And there's… you know better than anyone that when this shit catches up with us, it's bad. And it's always gonna find us. Especially now."

Sam tipped his head back against the car door, knowing full well that Dean was talking about Jessica. He swallowed back hard; he'd lost so much. So had Dean… and he was about to lose his brother again. The eleven months and six days wasn't going to be long enough. He was right… he couldn't have anything to do with Ben. Ben had to be kept safe. But, what if… what if Ben was Dean's chance? His one chance at 'normal'. His only chance to be a Dad.

"You'd be a great Dad, Dean." Sam almost whispered, not really wanting to say it. He'll kick my ass for saying it.

"Yeah… cos everyone wants their kid's father to not have a clue he existed for eight years, then turn up on the doorstep with a wallet full of fake credit cards, an arsenal in their trunk and wanted by the FBI." He grinned a wistful, painful smile.

"Well, apart from all that." Sam grinned back at him and chugged his beer. "I think I turned out pretty well."

"That's what you think." Dean smirked back. They were silent for a moment, nothing moving in the picture perfect landscape. "Hey… Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you…" his voice trailed off, his mind clearly changed. "Doesn't matter."

"Nah… you can't do that. You were nearly talking man, don't back out on me now. Or I'll kick your ass all over again."

What the hell, thought Dean. I can't get much more emo than _him_ tonight, I wasn't the one crying over an uninflated football. "D'you ever wonder what it'd be like?"

"What, being a Dad?" Oooh… something pulled at Sam, deep down. Something he'd never told anyone.

"Yeah. Y'know, not… not in this life. That'd just… just be impossible." His mind flashed back to the djinn, knowing full well that if his fantasy, or whatever it was, brother did have kids, he'd probably not have let him anywhere near them. Stop it, Dean, that wasn't real anyway. That was just messed up. "But, if things were different, y'know?"

"Yeah. Yeah I… do. I did, anyway. Not anymore. It could've happened with Jess. But I just couldn't imagine it with anyone else. Although once…" He looked away. He couldn't talk about Jess and look Dean in the eye. Hell, the man was going to die for him and here he was getting teary eyed over someone who was long gone. But maybe… maybe he wouldn't have much longer to tell Dean his secrets. And wouldn't have anyone else to confide in. "Once we thought it might've."

Dean widened his eyes. Huh. What was little brother telling him? Somehow, he'd never thought of his brother as someone who, despite all the geekiness, at some point, he'd been a normal teenager. He didn't say anything; Sam carried on looking into the distance and telling his story.

"It was… it was pretty scary. We thought we'd always been careful, but y'know, there's always that one night, when you think back. And Jess was so worried."

"Jeez, Sam. You never told me."

"Yeah, cos that's the kind of thing that comes up when your brother turns up for the weekend for the first time in years. Oh, hi bro, yeah, sure I'll look for Dad with you… by the way, did I ever tell you about the time when I was nineteen and I thought I'd knocked up my first ever girlfriend?" Sam almost glared back at his brother. He knew that was harsh.

"Sorry Sam. Suppose not." He reached out and clapped Sam on the knee, intending it to comfort him but noticing him wince as he placed his hand straight on his scraped skin. Sam sucked in a breath through his teeth.

"Dude… ouch! Anyway… turned out it wasn't…" He puffed out a long breath, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. "It was a false alarm anyway."

Huh. So… what did Geekboy get outta telling me this? I thought I knocked up my girlfriend but it was okay because I didn't? Dean considered this slowly. Oh… _oh_.

"I'm just…" Sam breathed out slowly and turned his head to his brother. "I'm just saying, I think… I probably don't know how you feel about Ben. I'm not gonna pretend I do. But me and Jess, we'd had… we'd only had about three days to get our heads around the idea. And we were just kids, y'know? Neither of us wanted the other to be tied down, we both thought, no, we both _knew_ that it was stupid, that it made no sense for us to have a kid. That it'd be the end of both of our studies. And that we needed to consider the… options."

"You… would you?" Dean's eyes widened. He didn't know why, but he was sure he'd got his brother's views all set out in his head, black and white. Right and wrong. Maybe he'd got Sam wrong.

"I don't know, Dean. It… we didn't have to make the decision in the end. Turns out she got mixed up and panicked or something, I don't know. I didn't really understand. I just…" Sam swallowed, the memory of the fear in the eyes of his beautiful teenage girlfriend too raw for him. "I just know, that when she told me that she wasn't pregnant, there was a little bit of me that was kinda disappointed."

"Disappointed? Come on, Sam… you were like, nineteen!"

"I know that Dean." Sam looked beseechingly into his big brother's eyes, begging him to listen. Because then he might realise that he understood. Even if only a little, little bit. "All I'm saying is that, man, it wasn't planned. We panicked. But if… if that's how things had happened, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad. Maybe… maybe it might've been the best thing that'd ever happened to us. And even after a few days, I'd already imagined how we'd be okay, how our son or daughter would look, how…" He swallowed again, a rogue tear running down his cheek. "How I'd tell you and you'd probably be the most kick-ass uncle in the world." Sam smiled through his tears. "And how now …how I'd have a family." He looked back to his brother with an unashamed sniff. No point in hiding his tears from big brother. "_We'd_ have a family."

We've got a family, he wanted to reply. You… me… yeah. Cos I'm heading downstairs in a year, and where does that leave my Sammy? Dean dropped his eyeline back to the dusty ground, knowing that if he spent another minute gazing into his brothers leaking eyes he was gonna start bawling himself. "Yeah… because that would've worked out _really_ well."

Sam gave a sarcastic laugh, a small sob escaping from him at the same time. "Yeah… imagine that. Me, you and a kid on the road."

"Never've happened Sammy." Dean squinted into the distance.

"Whatddya mean? I know it didn't happen…"

"No…" I can do it, I'm gonna look at him. Sam wasn't sobbing, just smiling wistfully with a few tear tracks on his face. Dean sucked in a breath and turned nervously to his brother, just hoping to God that Sam's tears weren't streaming and threatening to turn Dean into a sobbing mess himself. "You'd never have left. Even if… even if the fire had still happened. There's no way you'd have put a kid through our apple-pie lifestyle."

He's right, thought Sam. He'd never considered that if it had all have been different, if they did have a baby, that there would be no way that he would have taken off with Dean. Even if Jess had still been killed. He leaned slightly closer to his brother, their shoulders now touching. It was almost a full on embrace, well, for Winchesters anyway.

"All I'm… all I'm saying is that I get it."

"Get what?" You don't get anything little brother. Nothing for you to get.

"Ben. I get it. I get that you know it makes no friggin' sense for you to be involved. That it would be a bad idea, a stupid idea all round for you to be his Dad. And… and that it'd probably put him, put them both in danger."

"Damn straight."

"But… but if he's yours. Even if he's not. I get that it's your only chance. And… and we, me and Jess, I mean, not me and you, thought we'd have forever. So many chances… and that one day, the time would be right, you know?" He didn't stop for an answer. "And it never was. Never will be."

Dean looked up into the sun, hoping that blinding himself by looking directly at it would distract him from the way his chest suddenly felt like it was imploding. "I'm not doing it, Sam."

"Doing what?"

"I'm not walking into that kid's life and then being ripped away from it in twelve months. And I'm not letting them live with me wondering until that time whether I'm gonna get taken in by the FBI!" His heartbeat raised and his voice rose. How dare he suggest that I do that… how dare he suggest… that I… oh, God… Dean buried his head in his hands and rested them on his knees, feeling Sam reaching an arm over his back and pulling his shoulders closer to him. He didn't shake him off. Sam didn't say a word… wait… is he rubbing my back? He lifted his head, Sam not taking his arm away from his back and rested against his younger brother slightly. But only slightly. "He's… he's a great little guy, Sam," he whispered, dropping his voice a little too far.

"I know. He's freakin' brave anyway." Just like his Dad, he wanted to add. He knew he couldn't. He gulped down a large breath, hopefully swallowing back any sneaky tears that were still lurking somewhere just below the surface.

Dean smiled, despite the half-hug that Sam had pulled him into and sat up a little straighter, unconsciously telling Sam that he better get off him now because this was quickly going to become 'awkward'. A couple of beats passed as Sam put his drained beer down next to him.

"So… you really think I'd be a kick-ass uncle?"

Sam grinned back. "No. I think you'd be a nightmare. I wouldn't let you near any kid of mine 'cause you'd teach him stuff that I never wanted him to know, you'd have him under the hood of the car as soon as he could walk… you'd feed them junk food 'till they threw up… their first word would probably be a curse." Sam laughed. "Dude. You'd be the coolest Uncle ever."

Dean laughed back at him. "Yeah. Yeah you're probably right." He'd like to say, one day, he thought. Shit. Not gonna happen. Not ever. If Sammy ever gets out of this life, ever finds someone else he loves even half as much as Jess and settles down, I'm not gonna see it. And I thought that didn't matter. It does… because he wants me to be part of it. He looked Sam deep in the eyes and raised his eyebrows. _I'm sorry Sam._

"I don't think you'd be too bad an uncle either, Sam."

"You're joking, aren't you? I'd be boring as hell."

"Ben doesn't think you're boring. In fact, I'm sure that he thinks you're pretty kick-ass yourself. I mean, come on, Dude, you brought flame throwers to the party."

"Yeah, suppose I did." Does that make me cool? Sam considered it. I suppose when you're eight, a guy with flame-throwers is _pretty_ cool.

"Would you…" Man, this is awkward, he thought. "Would you be that for Ben?"

"Be what?" Sam frowned. A flame thrower?

"A… a kick-ass uncle. When… when I'm not here." Dean cleared his throat. "I don't mean, all the time or anything… just make sure he's okay."

"Dean…" Sam was almost exasperated. He had to think about doing something to save himself. The goalposts had changed. Surely now… surely meeting Ben had changed his perspective?

"Don't get mad, Sam. And don't…" He looked at his brother, his earlier-freak out too fresh in his mind to want to upset him again. "Don't get all upset again. You wanna talk about this deal, this is all you're gonna get. I need you to tell me that you'll just… y'know. Keep an eye on them."

Suck it up Sam, he thought. I know. I know he doesn't want to talk about it. He's asking you for something. And considering what he just did for you… even though it was the most freaking stupid thing he'd ever, ever - he rolled his eyes to the suddenly darkening sky. "Yeah. Yeah sure I will."

"You promise me that, Sam?"

"I promise. But only… only if you're not here to do it yourself. And…"

"Don't start, Sam."

"And I'm gonna make sure I do everything I can to make sure that you're coming back to check on Ben yourself." Sam straightened up and glanced through the back window, almost expecting to see a little more space in the back seat now at least one of the elephants had vacated. There were still a couple hanging around though… with his name on them. At least Dean didn't seem able to see them. Yet anyway. He reached a strong arm down to his dishevelled looking sibling and hauled him to his feet.

"We good, dude?" Dean raised his eyebrows up at Sam. "Cos I think it's time to stop talking as if we've got PMS and go get some food, whaddya say?"

Sam bit his lip, the elephants banging on the window in his minds eye. Dancing. Forcing him to tell Dean what he'd found out, to tell him about the blonde demon girl, about Mom's friends… he glanced back at Dean. He looked like someone had jumped him and shoved him face down into the dusty ground… oh, yeah… kinda forgot about that incident. Maybe… maybe the elephants would just have to ride shotgun for a while. Perhaps he could let them melt into the clouds like Dumbo's pink elephants did.

"Yeah." Sam sighed, but not aggressively this time. "Yeah okay. Let's just…"

"Just what?"

"Can we have a few hours without you… chasing your 'dying wishes'?"

Dean grinned. "Is that what we're calling it now?" He raised his eyebrows with a cheeky glint flashing through his green eyes. Sam looked back at him, pleading. _Just a few hours being my brother. Please. _ Okay, Sam. Understood. "Sure Sam. The only dying wish I've got tonight is a hot shower, a fat, juicy cheeseburger and some cable TV. How about we try and find somewhere that we can get all three?"

"Sounds like the best threesome you've ever suggested…"

"Oooh… now, you're wrong there, little brother. That's clearly a story I've never told you Sammy!" Dean threw back his head and laughed as he climbed into the Impala. He knew that wasn't what Sam wanted to talk about. But that was as far as they were getting for today. He shot a sneaky glance into the backseat, just to check… yes. Elephants seemed to have chilled out. No dancing. No… splitting in half. No elephant demons running at him, all made of elephant-heads…

"Thank God they've stopped." Sam murmured.

"What?"

Jeez, did I say that out loud? He laughed, a small sigh of relief breaking his tired features. "Nothing. The elephants."

"Did you just say elephants?"

"No."

"You did. You so did. You get freakier every day."

"Did not. Do not. Just drive."

Sam settled back, watching over his shoulder as the pink elephants settled gently into the scenery behind him, forming soft clouds in the distance. Just like Dad said they would. They were calmed. As was Sam.

For now at least.


End file.
